


Hunting Season

by the_pale_rider



Category: Age of Sigmar, Warhammer - All Media Types, Warhammer Fantasy, Warhmmaer Age of Sigmar
Genre: Flesh-Eater Courts, Gen, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 04:38:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13516743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_pale_rider/pseuds/the_pale_rider
Summary: The noble Count Metzinger leads his war host against those who would dare attack his subject. The Crookback Court has been roused for war. But all is not as it appears.





	1. 1

“Forward! Run the savages down!” bellowed Count Metzinger as he directed his war host after his chosen prey. He trusted that his yeomen would be already be in position, ready to funnel his quarry into the ambush.

“These barbarians give good sport, do they not my lord? They may have lead us on a wild chase but at last we have them,” Viscount Artur Fitzmetzinger exclaimed as he stood beside his liege. Tall and rakishly handsome, Artur would one day lead the Crookback Court onto further prosperity and glory.

_If he can keep his ambition in check _. Metzinger grinned as he stood beside his heir with their attendant men-at-arms. The Court was rife with competing schemes to rise in his favour; he knew some of his subjects resented the elevation of the Viscount. Chief amongst them was the Lord Chamberlain himself, Sir Oswuld. The Count knew private scuffles had occurred discreetly behind the scenes, as followers of the Viscount and the Lord Chamberlain strove to expand their influence. Neither had the strength to outright remove the other but if their silent war didn’t spill out into schism, he was content to let it continue. The position of heir-apparent was not permanent, as Artur well knew. He had forced the previous heir into an honour duel and the outcome had been a forgone conclusion; few could best Artur with a blade.__

____

____

Dismissing the courtly intrigues of his underlings, the Count refocussed on the task at hand. These foul creatures he was pursuing had raided the border homesteads of his lands, pillaging and murdering as they went. Many of his subjects had been killed; the survivors had fled into the wilderness and eventually brought word to him. He had immediately roused the Court to war and set out to track down and confront the perpetrators. Sending his yeoman ahead of the host, he had received word of brief skirmishes between them and the enemy. Nothing decisive and the base creatures had always managed to stay at arms-length, fleeing and retreating deeper into the shrouded forests. Now they were cornered, and the war host of the Crookback Court stood ready to utterly crush them. They had taken refuge in the ruins of a deserted town, no doubt hoping that the tumbled ruins would rob the advantage of his ordered formations. Metzinger would show them their error.

“Baron Kruze, lead the levies over the barricades. The enemy seeks to lose us amongst the ruins. Make those broken avenues their grave. Marquess Carhold, take the outriders and circle round to cut off any who flee. Viscount, you and the hussars are with me.” As his nobles left to fulfil his orders, the Count’s gaze swept over the ruins one final time. His strategy was sound, there would no escape this time.


	2. 2

“Every soldier to the gates! Keep these monsters pinned!” Erik stabbed his sword into the chest of another howling ghoul as bounded forward. Either side of him, the townspeople fought desperately to keep the cannibals at bay. Even as he wrenched the blade free, another ghoul leapt forward to replace its slain kin. Hastily dodging aside from its filthy claws, he caught the vile creature on his shield and shoved it back. Lunging forward, he managed to skewer it in the shoulder. The beast yowled in pain and hissed in anger. 

Dragging his blade free, he swung again and hacked down into the ghoul’s throat. Foul black blood spurted from the mortal wound, drenching the sword and his arm.

Stepping back for a moment, Sergeant Erik Hauser wiped the worst of the gore from his blade and quickly surveyed the defences. Hundreds of ghouls were attacking the town, throwing themselves forward with reckless abandon and animalistic ferocity. Word of their incursion had come a few weeks ago, attacking isolated villages in the dead of night. They had advanced erratically, tailing survivors in a cruel game of cat and mouse. Now they surged out of the darkness in a tide of fang and claw. So far, the Freehold militia was holding them back, but Erik’s practiced eye could see it was only a matter of time until they broke. _We need only buy enough time for the civilians to flee _, he thought.__

“Sergeant!” The desperate cry caught his attention through the tumult of bloodthirsty howls and desperate shouts. A soldier stumbled towards him, his hauberk torn and chest bleeding. “Something else has joined the attack! It’s tearing through us and opening a gap in our lines!”

Erik ran back towards the gate, just in time to see the creature leap forward. Where the ghouls were lean and half-starved, this beast towered above them, its body swelled with inhuman musculature. Spines and bony protrusions ran along its arms and shoulders. Its snarling batlike face and hooked talons were slathered in blood, but Erik could see it wasn’t a mindless creature. A cruel intelligence glowed in its red eyes.

_Vampire _. Erik had heard the tales as a child, blood hungry leeches from Shyish that craved dominion over the living. But he had never known them to appear outside the Amethyst Realm. Focus. The vampire loped forward, swatting aside soldiers with horrifying ease. Packs of ghouls followed in its wake, pulling down men and women, gutting and ripping them apart. Erik raised his sword and prepared to meet the beast. Pain built up behind his eyes, a throbbing wave of pain. His hand trembled. The screams and cries of his soldiers echoed in his ears. He knew he had little hope against such a creature, but he would not abandon the townsfolk.__


	3. 3

Baron Kruze charged at the head of his men, leading them into the teeth of the barbarians that has dared attack his people. The Count’s attack had caught them completely off guard and their forces were now pushing the enemy back, hemming them into the broken ruins they had sought to cower in. He hewed left and right, cutting down opponents with every blow. His men-at-arms were at his side, fighting courageously and with honour. As he beheaded another savage, part of him was disgusted that they had to cross blades with such inferior foes. These barbarians were a poor enemy, barely worth his skill. One caught his eyes, charging forward to meet him. He caught his clumsy overhead and backhanded him to the ground. The brute bellowed foul curses as he reached for a dagger strapped to his belt.

“You are beaten! Accept it and I will grant you a swift death.” He caught the man’s wrist as he lunged and snapped it, the dagger tumbling from his nerveless fingers. Planting a foot on the man’s chest, he glanced down at the downed foe. “Very well savage. For your atrocities against the Crookback Court, you will be made to suffer.”

***

Erik gasped for breath, pain lancing through his body. The vampire’s blow had driven the air from his lungs and had broken something.

“You are beaten! Accept it and I will grant you a swift death.”

Erik was stunned. He’d never imagined the inhuman monster was capable to speech, let alone believe this creature was serious. He fumbled for his dagger and tried to stab upwards. Lighting fast, talons caught his wrists and snapped it with a quick jerk. Roaring with pain, Erik glared up at the creature.

“Very well savage. For your atrocities against the Crookback Court, you will be made to suffer.”

Erik’s anger outweighed his fear. “What atrocities? Ghouls have been attacking us for weeks. Villages destroyed, whole families slaughtered!” The pain in his head thumped and pounded. Blood roared in his skull. Images blurred. The vampire’s snarling face morphed into the patrician features of a haughty nobleman.

***

The barbarian roared and spat in Kruze’s face, bellowing foul oaths. Even in defeat, they were uncivilised, unworthy of his mercy. He struck the savage across the face, knocking him unconscious. Rising to survey the battle, he motioned to his men to secure the prisoner.

“Take him to others. Despite being brutes, the Court always follows the rules of war. They will be ransomed, and we will be compensated for the loss of the border villages.”

Sweeping his gaze over the ruins, he was pleased to see his soldiers advancing in good order through the broken maze of streets and alleyways. A shout of triumph in the distance signalled the Marquess had caught some of the cowards trying to flee. Kurze smiled thinly, she would be pleased.


End file.
